


Morigerous

by Sanshal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Crying, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Needy Sam, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Used to his father’s autocratic parenting style and being bossed around by his big brother, Sam felt oddly rudder-less without someone to answer to at Stanford. And with the argument before he’d left, he wasn’t comfortable confessing how much he missed them. So he tried to ground himself by subbing. He’d meet the Dom online, chat for a few days and then they’d have a scene. It was fine... until it wasn’t...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on spn_kinkmeme. Complete prompt at the end.

**Morigerous**

Sam moaned as somebody pounded on his door, whimpering as the sound echoed in his already pounding head. He tried to stifle his sniffling; hoping whoever was knocking would get the hint or think he was not in his room and leave.

 

He sighed as the banging stopped after another minute, burrowing his face into his pillow as his body shook with uncontrollable sobs. _God, he wanted Dean so much at times like these!..._ His big brother would have known what to do.

 

He jumped at the shocked gasp from directly behind him; not having realised till that instant that someone had broken in and entered his room. Heart-weary or not, he was a hunter’s son and he scrambled up instantly, fingers curled around the slender blade Dean had gifted him for his sixteenth birthday and  dragging his rumpled covers to hide his nudity as he turned and came face to face with... _Dean?!_

 

His brother looked as awkward and horrified as he felt and for a few seconds neither of them spoke, both staring open-mouthed at each other and then Dean’s brain seemed to come back online, his green eyes darkening dangerously, “Who did that to you?!”

 

Sam had the grace to blush. Every cell in him seemed to want to crawl into those sturdy arms that had been his haven since he was six-months old ( _and maybe even before that, who knew?_ ) but he knew this was something his brother might not understand. “I-... it’s nothing, Dean...”

 

“Nothing?!” Dean growled, advancing like the predator he was. (Sam felt his dick give an interested twitch in response.) “Your behind is beaten all to hell and welted... _Welted,_ Sammy.” His eyes softened, “Who hurt you, Kiddo? And why didn’t you call me?”

 

“It’s nothing, Dean.” He insisted, knowing his case was weak if he didn’t disclose his ... _exploits_. “It’s... it’s something I asked for, okay?”

 

“What?! _Why?_ ”

 

Sam sighed. _He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his brother._ “You ever hear of BDSM?”

 

Dean’s eyes widened comically before a lascivious smirk replaced it as he connected the dots, but then memory returned and he frowned again. “Then why’re you holed up in here, crying your heart out?”

 

Sam failed to hide his groan this time. “It didn’t work out, okay? _Now leave me alone!_ ”

 

He watched the flash of hurt ripple across Dean’s expressive face before determination filled his big brother’s features. “No can do, Kiddo. I’m not leaving till you’re all better. Now tell me, when was the last time you showered?”

 

Sam blinked stupidly at the rapid change of subject and then found himself obeying the order unconsciously, “Yesterday? Maybe the day before..”

 

“No wonder you stink!” Dean retorted; keen eyes not missing the lowered chin as shame painted his li’l brother’s features red. “It’s a fixable problem, Sammy. C’mon now. Into the shower.”

 

Dean watched with furrowed brows as his brother docilely obeyed him, head bowed as he ducked into the tiny bathroom that came with the room. Shaking his head, he set about airing the room, opening the windows and changing the sweaty sheets with fresh ones, fluffing the pillows. It took him a few minutes to realise that Sam should have been done with his shower by then. Worried, he rapped softly on the door before trying the handle, biting back his surprise when he found it unlocked. “Sammy? Kiddo?”

 

Dean winced when he saw his little brother sitting in the shower stall hugging his knees, body shaking with soundless sobs. Sighing, he stripped down to his own boxers and undershirt before reaching for the crying man- _boy:At the _moment,__ _Sam didn’t look anything l_ _ike the independent adult he was._  Gently pulling the cowering form into his arms he briskly set about washing his brother’s body the way he had when Sammy had been a helpless baby. He bit his lip when instead of protesting Sam simply curled closer to him, staying pliant and obedient in Dean’s hold.

 

He noticed the limp hair after a moment and had Sam bend his head back so that he could pour water over the dirty hair and shielding the boy’s eyes with one hand, proceeded to efficiently work up lather with the shampoo from the cabinet. Sam purred in pleasure when he massaged his scalp but remained docile as Dean finished washing him and stood quietly while he was wiped down. Dean tried to be careful of the welts littering his brother’s body but couldn’t keep Sam from wincing once or twice when the towel moved over a bruised part. Dean had already discovered that Sam needed to go to the laundry down the street immediately, so he brought a pair of his own sweatpants and tee shirt instead of allowing his brother to wear his dirty clothes again. Watching Sam snuggle into the soft material had him smiling sadly as he bundled his baby brother back into bed. He forced back his concern when Sam didn’t protest being treated like a kid.

 

Leaving Sam on the bed, he headed for the corner of the room which served as a kitchenette, suddenly glad that Sam had opted to shift here from the dorms he’d originally being living at after arriving at Stanford. There wasn’t a lot of option, but right then Dean knew his brother wasn’t up for anything much besides some soup and so it didn’t matter anyway. By the time he made it back to the bed with the bowl, Sam had fat tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Dean carefully wiped at them before offering a spoonful of steaming broth.

 

Sam turned his head away.

 

“Don’t make me make _choo-choo_ sounds, Sammy.” Dean chided, following the movement of Sam’s head with his spoon. Sam let out a defeated sigh before parting his lips delicately and accepting the bite.

 

“Good boy,”

 

Dean wondered if he’d imagined the minute relaxing of Sam’s muscles at the praise.

 

Once the bowl was empty, he wiped his mouth with a wet wash-cloth and helped him lie down; sitting by his side and stroking his hair till Sam drifted off. Dean was up the second the first snore escaped Sam’s lips. He tidied the room and kitchenette to the best of his ability, piling the dirty clothes due for laundry in a bag and making a list of pantry requirements. Exhausted by his whirlwind cleaning spree, he glanced at the bed once, debating if he could make a quick trip to the grocery ‘round the corner when he noticed that Sam’s sleep had turned fitful. Sighing, he abandoned his plans of a shopping trip and grabbed the laptop before climbing on the narrow bed next to Sam and leaning against the headboard. He stretched out his legs in front of him and stifled a snicker when Sam immediately nestled back against him the way he had as a child. Knowing no one was watching, he allowed himself the luxury of gently stroking his brother’s messy hair, carefully working out the snarls till the tension eased from Sam’s body, the younger male relaxing into peaceful dreams again.

 

He sat for a few minutes, simply watching his brother sleep before booting up the laptop and typing in Sam’s symptoms (bruised body, fatigue, sleepiness, and bouts of crying) along with ‘BDSM’ in the search box. It wasn’t long before he had found something called _sadomasochism_... ( _Why on earth would someone want to be hurt?!_) He rolled his eyes, monsters he understood, people were just crazy!

 

Looking further he stumbled upon something called a ‘sub-drop’, eyes widening and moving instinctively to the curled body sleeping next to him before reading further. Everything seemed to match and there were even some symptoms that were yet to manifest but what Dean didn’t understand that this was something that happened to the ‘sub’... the ah.. the submissive... _Why was Sam going through it???_

 

He glanced speculatively at his slumbering sibling before venturing a soft , ' _Sammy_?'... When there was no response, he became a little braver and tried louder, “Sammy?” 

 

His brother made a low sound.

 

 _Good enough, for now._ “Are you a submissive?”

 

“Mmm...”

 

“Why?” Slipped out before he could stop himself.

 

“Missed you,” Sam mumbled.

 

Dean sat stunned for a few seconds. Sam promptly drifted back to sleep.

 

 

He woke to the feel of something moving next to him and was instantly alert; senses scanning for a threat till he realised that it was only Sam. He sat up fully from his awkward sprawl against the headboard, wincing as his neck and back announced their displeasure of his sleeping position. Well, not like he’d meant to fall asleep in the first place, had he?

 

“G’morning,” He mumbled, “How’re you feeling?”

 

Sam had the grace to blush, “I think I’d been hoping that it was a dream.”

 

Dean laughed mirthlessly, “Nightmare, more likely; given the state of your ass.”

 

He regretted the words instantly as the all the air in the room seemed to get sucked by a vacuum. “S’rry.”

 

“What’re _you_ sorry for?!” Sam asked incredulously.

 

“For making you feel like you needed this to have control over your life.”

 

“Dude, inflated ego much?” Sam snorted, “Dean, you were nowhere near me-”

 

“Should’ve been,” Dean muttered under his breath.

 

Sam chose to ignore the interruption, “ _How_ is it that you can twist everything into your fault?”

 

“Well, if _I_ hadn’t been a domineering asshole, _you_ wouldn’t have tried to make yourself forget me by going to some other douche and asking him to hurt you!”

 

Sam stared slack jawed at his outburst for a long moment before slumping, tears filling his hazel eyes abruptly, “I’m sorry I’m such a freak-”

 

“Hey,” Dean softened his tone instinctively, reaching out to draw his younger brother into his arms, “Not your fault, okay?”

 

Sam nodded miserably.

 

“Want pancakes for breakfast?”

 

“Not hungry.” The younger brother mumbled petulantly.

 

“Well, you’re eating anyway. We either head to a diner or I flip some pancakes. _Your choice._ ” Dean announced; glad that his ‘research’ had warned him that the person suffering from sub-drop might experience loss of appetite.

 

“Don’t wanna be around p’ple,”

 

Dean sighed, running a hand through the soft brown hair and massaging lightly at the scalp. He smiled when Sam leaned into the touch like always. He gently manoeuvred his brother back into bed after another moment and tucked him under the blankets again. He’d read that it helped to keep the sub warm and cosy. “Pancakes it is.”

 

 He felt Sam’s eyes on him as he walked over to the little kitchenette and set about grabbing the stuff to make the pancakes.

 

“Sugar’s in-” Sam began to offer before snapping his mouth shut when Dean unerringly grabbed the bright yellow plastic container : “You’ve been here before,”

 

Dean turned to glance guiltily at his brother, biting his lip as he waited to see how Sam would react.

 

“ _When_?” Sam whispered.

 

Dean shrugged, “You really didn’t think that Dad and I wouldn’t check up on you, did you?”

 

“You came to the campus to check on me?”

 

Dean nodded uncertainly, not sure how to interpret the expression on Sam’s face.

 

“You came to my apartment?”

 

Dean nodded again, “Well, yeah. How else was I supposed to ward the place?”

 

“And you didn’t meet me?” Sam sounded all of five years and Dean’s heart broke as he watched fresh tears spill from his brother’s eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry, Kiddo... I- I thought you wouldn’t want me to intrude-”

 

“I _missed_ you!” Sam wailed.

 

Dean hurriedly abandoned the batter to crouch next to the bed and pull the shaking figure into his arms, “I missed you too, Sammy. So much. ... But I didn’t want to ruin your normal.”

 

“I thought you hated me.”

 

“No!” Dean said sharply, pulling back to glare at the red-rimmed hazel eyes, “I could never hate you, Sammy. _Never_.” He announced vehemently, “You could...- _can_ do anything. I don’t care. You’ll find me standing by you. _Always_.”

 

Sam nuzzled closer.

 

Dean held him till the trembling reduced and then returned to breakfast. Sam refused to feed himself, so he found himself feeding the kid like he had till Sam had grown old enough that he could manage on his own.

 

Even after he was done, Sam seemed content to lay curled up against Dean and though his legs were going numb from the pressure of Sam’s head on them; Dean was loath to move unless absolutely necessary. He wasn’t surprised when Sam fell asleep again. Once he was sure that his brother had drifted off, Dean carefully lowered Sam’s pants- careful not to awaken him and rubbed ointment on the welts before pulling them back up.

 

 

 

He puttered about the apartment till he found a phone number for the grocery and placed an order, glad to have made atleast some progress in fixing Sam’s life when the delivery arrived promptly. He was putting away the contents of the last bag when Sam woke.

 

“You’re still here...”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow.

 

“I-... I mean its great; but I expected you to have already left for a case.”

 

“Case?”

 

“Hunt?” Sam asked, “Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place?”

 

Dean shook his head, “Can’t I come to just check on my brother?”

 

Sam had the grace to look shame-faced, “It’s just that Dad-”

 

Dean sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face before meeting Sam’s eyes, “I’m not Dad, Sammy.”

 

“I know!” Sam said immediately, “It’s just that-”

 

“Just what?”

 

“You  didn’t say anything before I left?”

 

“What was I supposed to have said, Sammy? ‘ _Don’t go_ ’? Because that’s what I wanted to... But you wanted this. ‘ _Wanted normal._ ”

 

“I wanted you to come with me.” Sam blurted.

 

Dean swallowed and looked away, “You never said anything...”

 

“I didn’t think I could handle you saying no...”

 

“I-... I wouldn’t have said no. I don’t think.”

 

Sam nodded, looking away. “What happens now?”

 

“Now we get you all healed up, first. And then...” Dean trailed off with a  shrug.

 

“What if I _asked_ you to stay?”

 

“You won’t,” Dean answered, “Because you want _normal_ , Sammy. And... and normal suites you. I-... Well, I’m a hunter of the supernatural. I can never _be_ normal.”

 

Sam nodded, still in the process of turning away when a sob burst from the younger man. He wiped hastily at the tears threatening to brim over and choked on another sob. Dean just opened his arms.

 

Sam stared for a long minute before surrendering and slipping into the waiting embrace. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled, “I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

 

“You’re experiencing sub-drop.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Sub-drop. It’s known to happen after intense scenes.”

 

“How do you even _know_ that?!”

 

“I had to look it up,” Dean confessed, cheeks flaring a bright pink, “And I’m pretty sure that that’s what you’re going through... but I’m not sure what happened-”

 

“Dean-”

 

“You can tell me anything, Kiddo.”

 

Sam simply shook his head where it was buried in the hollow between Dean’s neck and shoulders.

 

“Sammy?” He waited till his brother shuffled back to look at him, and then let a little bit of steel to slip into his tone, “ _Tell me._ ”

 

He was sure they were both surprised when he felt ‘little’ Sammy twitch against his hip where they were still pressed flush against each other.

 

 “Need a hand with that?” Dean asked softly.

 

Sam’s ears turned a brilliant shade of red (Dean hadn’t even known human skin could turn that colour) as he shook his head.

 

“Fine,” He walked them back to the bed and sat down, pulling his younger brother down with him, “Now c’mon, spill.”

 

Sam met his eyes briefly before looking down again, “I met him online.”

 

Dean ground his teeth to keep from interrupting.

 

“We- we chatted a few times. Discovered we shared similar interests... well, opposite sides of it. I- I liked to sub and he was a dom... So- so we decided to meet and share a scene. Nothing too hard... just a light exploratory one to see if we matched. We did. Dean, we matched so perfectly!” Sam met his brother’s eyes then before glancing down to his lap again, crimson staining his cheeks as he remembered why they were discussing this in the first place. “So we decided to meet again.”

 

Dean rubbed his back when he stopped.

 

“He- he decided to go a little further this time. I agreed. He... he confessed to have a spanking kink-”

 

“Really? After all the times Dad whaled on your butt, you decided to get _spanked?!_ ” Dean burst out.

 

Sam’s mouth closed with a snap and he looked down again.

 

Dean sighed, “I’m sorry, Kiddo. I shouldn’t have interrupted... Please... continue?”

 

Sam shook his head, “You think I’m a freak.”

 

“No,” Dean denied instantly, “I just... help me understand this, Sammy. Please? How- how can you _like_ something like that?!”

 

Sam looked up again, surprised by the honest curiosity in the familiar green eyes. “It’s not like it was with Dad. It’s... it’s different. I- I don’t know how to explain. _It just is_... There’s- there’s no one counting out your faults and there are breaks in between to uh- to stimulate you and get you... uhm... get you in the mood.”

 

Dean nodded, even though his face still reflected his bewilderment,“You like it.”

 

“I used to,” Sam admitted. “Nick... it wasn’t the same with him.”

 

“What was different?”

 

“For one, he wanted a bare-butt spanking. Apparently watching the red bloom on my ass is very ...ah... _invigorating_.”

 

Dean had to clench his fists to keep from protesting.

 

“And he went too far ... there- there were no breaks and he was using too much force. _It hurt_.”

 

“God, Sammy...”

 

“I told him to stop. He took it to be part of the game,” Sam admitted miserably.

 

Dean’s brow furrowed.

 

Sam chuckled at the expression, “Saying ‘no’ without meaning it is a common trend during scenes. It helps to build the illusion of helplessness.”

 

Dean had his doubts about someone being unable to differentiate between a _real_ ‘no’ and a _fake_ ‘no’ but kept his qualms to himself.

 

“At- at first it hurt too much to remember my safe-word, but then I remembered and called it.”

 

“He didn’t stop?”

 

“He stopped the third time I repeated the word.”

 

“Then?”

 

“But he didn’t release me...”

 

“What d’ya mean... _release you?_ Sammy, did he have you restrained?”

 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, uh, he had tied my wrists and feet to keep me immobile.”

 

Dean scowled. _He really wanted to meet this ‘Nick’ and have a nice little chat with the man. With his fists._

 

“Instead of letting me go, he started playing with my...” He trailed off, cheeks turning a darker pink.

 

“Sammy?” Dean felt his curiosity pique again.

 

“My hole,” The younger Winchester mumbled softly, voice barely audible. Dean found himself leaning in to hear better. “It hurt a little, what with how bruised my butt was, but it felt good. At least initially.”

 

Dean just hummed.

 

“Then he started insulting me... calling me names and telling me how weak I was to – to safe-word... and all the time he had his fingers in me.”

 

“Jesus,” Dean muttered.

 

“Before I knew it, he slipped something inside of me... and then picked up a cane to re-start the spanking.”

 

Dean thumped his head against the wall behind him, anger a roiling, seething snake in the pit of his stomach.

 

“I think he didn’t anticipate me managing to free myself,” Sam mused, almost as though speaking to himself.

 

“Atta boy,” Dean cheered reflexively, under no illusions about how badly injured Sam would’ve been if he’d failed to free himself.

 

Sam smiled at the praise, cheeks tinted pink, “I caught him as he swung the cane and jerked it out of his hands before snapping it in two. I- I think that frightened him... he left.”

 

Dean smoothed a hand down his brother’s back. “What happened then?”

 

“I pulled out whatever he’d inserted... turned out to be a vibrating plug-”

 

Dean grimaced.

 

“And got myself home.”

 

“You didn’t go to a doctor? Call your friends?” Dean asked. He had suspected that to be the case but still wanted the confirmation.

 

Sam shook his head, “I just wanted to get to bed... And then... then you were here.”

 

Dean nodded, licking his lips as he decided on the best way to frame this but ultimately choosing to just say it out loud. “I... I’ve seen the external damage...” Dean began, “But I didn’t check you for umm... for internal injuries.”

 

“I’m fine, Dean.”

 

“I need to see, Sammy...”

 

“Uh-uh...”Sam shook his head vehemently.

 

“C’mon, Kiddo. It’s not like it’s something I’ve never seen...”

 

“What d’you mean you’ve seen it before?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow, “Who do you think cleaned and changed you when you soiled your diapers?”

 

“I was a baby then!” Sam protested as he began backing away.

 

“And I’m _still_ your big brother,” Dean retorted. “I’ll just confirm that the bastard didn’t do more damage... C’mon.”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine; you either show me, or we go to the clinic.”

 

“What? _No!_ ”

 

“We can always claim that your hazing got a little out-of-hand.”

 

“Dean, please...”

 

“Look, I- I won’t even touch, alright... Just-just show me. _Please._ ”

 

Sam’s hands went to his pants automatically at the gentle order. He felt everything- _upto and including the tips of his ears_ \- burn with embarrassment as he turned to face away from Dean, lowering the soft cotton of his- _Dean’s_ \- sweatpants till they were just under the curve of his butt and bent forward.

 

“Can’t see anything, Sammy. You need to spread your legs a little wider.”

 

Sam blushed harder as he obeyed.

 

“A little more,”

 

Sighing, he reached behind himself and spread his cheeks. “Happy?” He demanded petulantly.

 

“Your rim is all red. Looks inflamed.” Dean informed him.

 

Sam could feel his brother’s warm exhales on his rim as he spoke, indicating that Dean had bent closer to get a better look.

 

“That’s what happens when you use something intended as an exit as an entry,” He muttered.

 

“Sam.”

 

“What?!” He demanded. He idly wondered what Dean’s reaction would be if he were to fart right then before sobering.

 

“I-... I need to see if there’s any tearing on the inside, okay?”

 

“Dean, you _promised_!”

 

“Technically? I didn’t...”

 

“Please don’t...”

 

“Sam, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. But I’m worried, Kiddo. Look, if it embarrasses you to let me do it, we can have a professional take a look. They’ll be able to tell better anyway.”

 

“NO!” Sam returned sharply; he knew Dean wasn’t being purposely manipulative, but he hated that his brother knew his pressure points so well...“ _Fine_. You do it.”

 

“Good boy,”

 

Sam blushed at the praise, something cold and desolate in him warming at the appreciation. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a finger tentatively circle his rim. Instinct had him trying to get away.

 

“Hurts?” Dean questioned softly from behind him.

 

“N-no...”

 

“Then hold still,”

 

And he felt his muscles lock into place instinctively. The finger brushed a few more times over the puckered entrance before hesitantly dipping inside.

Sam hissed.

 

“Hurts?” Dean repeated.

 

“A little.”

 

“I’ll be careful.” Dean promised.

 

Sam felt the finger tease around, not going deeper but swivelling in place. He relaxed after a few seconds and gasped as his relaxing muscles allowed it to slip deeper. Again, it felt around his fluttering walls before pressing onwards. Sam bit his lip when it brushed over his prostate. Obviously the finger felt the change in texture (or maybe Dean noticed the slight tensing of his muscles) because it rubbed there for a moment. Sam struggled not to push back into the movements.

 

Dean had obviously misinterpreted his reactions (and Sam wasn’t planning on disabusing him of the notion) because he seemed to think that the little bundle of nerves was some sort of injury or something, carefully mapping it out and stroking over it.

 

“Dean...” Sam was finally forced to protest, gritting his teeth as he tried to fight off his unintended arousal.

 

His brother removed the finger in reply, the callused tip passing once more over the hypersensitive spot inside and Sam climaxed. He didn’t which of the two of them was more surprised. Sam wanted the world to open up under him and swallow him in his shame.

 

“I’m sorry,”

Dean’s horrified voice brought him out of his thoughts. Glancing up in surprise he caught his brother’s wide green eyes... _normal siblings, they’d shout and scream, maybe even throw a punch if their younger brothers orgasmed with their finger up their ass; but no, Dean... Dean had to go and look as if someone shot his puppy..._

 

“Dean?” He asked cautiously, uncertain to why his brother was so appalled.

 

“I-... I’m so sorry, Sammy. I- I didn’t... I didn’t mean to!”

 

“What’re you talking about, Dean?”

 

“I forced you,” His brother mumbled, glancing up as he repeated, “You didn’t want it and I... I _forced_   you. Oh God, I’m sorry, Sammy. I really am... do- do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

 

Sam couldn’t help letting out a disbelieving snort. ... Sometimes he forgot just how much his brother loved him. “It wasn’t a bad orgasm, Dean...” He whispered; eager to wipe that guilt-ridden horrified look off his brother’s face.  “Embarrassing, but... but one of my best.”

 

“You mean it?”

 

"Dude, I came untouched- I  _think_ that should tell you how much I enjoyed it!"

 

"And you're not mad at me? You don't- don't think that I ... that I forced you?"

 

He shook his head immediately, eyes solemn; laughing when Dean pulled him into a bear-hug in relief. He reached back equally fiercely. A minute later two taps to his back indicated that Dean was done with the hug and it was only then that he realized that he still had the pants lowered. Blushing furiously, he reached to pull them back up when a hand grabbed his wrist.

 

“Let me clean you up first.”

 

Sam nodded, he felt exhausted and wrung out after his orgasm and he was aware that he wasn’t particularly decent as he lay splayed on the bed, but his brother didn’t seem to mind, cleaning him up like he was no more than a baby and then carefully tucking him back in.

 

“Tired?” Dean asked softly.

 

He nodded.

 

“Sleep awhile, then.”

 

“You?” He asked amidst a huge yawn. _God, why was he so exhausted?_

 

“Your clothes need a desperate visit to the laundry. So do mine. ... I was thinking I’d go and do that while you rest. I’ll grab us something from the diner down the road on my way back.” 

Sam nodded again. _It felt so good to be taken care of like this..._

 

“Sleep,” Dean whispered, perching on the edge of the bed and stroking his back- _his brother seemed to be doing that a lot since he got here_ , Sam mused.

 

“Thought you were going out,” He mumbled.

 

“I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”

 

Sam smiled, tucking the blanket higher as he closed his eyes.

 

\---*_*---

It wasn’t easy and it took time but little by little Sam seemed to get back on his feet. He still tired easily and tended to go quiet, but most of the time Dean could bring him out of his funk with some gentle teasing and - _on a handful of occasions_ \- some cuddling on the rug in front of the TV. It never failed to surprise the older sibling how Sam managed to tuck his longer than normal limbs around himself to form a tight - _small_ \- ball that fit as perfectly under his arm as the way a twelve year old Sam - _who’d yet to hit the growth spurts that would make him surpass Dean in height_ \- had.

 

Despite how good everything was on the surface, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that Sam was frustrated and not dealing as well as he pretended... It had been two weeks and Sam had re-joined his classes for a week already. There was no point to Dean hanging around anymore, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right and so made no mention of leaving even when Sam spent increasingly more time on his second-hand laptop, ostensibly to finish his ‘homework’.

 

He was tossing Sam’s salad and debating whether he’d outlived his welcome (and should take his leave) when he heard a throat being cleared behind him. He turned.

 

“Can... can we talk?” Sam asked; a pinched expression on his face that Dean instinctively wanted to wipe away.

 

“Sure,” He wiped his hands on the kitchen-rag and slung it over his shoulder, turning to plate Sam’s salad and his own burger for dinner; well aware that he and Sam communicated better when they didn’t have to look at each other.

His brother accepted his dinner with a small smile and followed him the two steps to the rug, still silent.

 

“What’d you wanna talk about?” Dean asked (mouth full of the burger) when a long minute had passed and Sam had remained stubbornly silent.

 

“I’m not over what happened with Nick,” Sam answered after a moment, cutting straight to the chase as always.

 

Dean nodded.    _He had suspected as much._  

 

“I… I had planned to do it after you leave, but… it’s getting too hard to pretend-” Sam confessed, “So umm…I … I uh was considering finding a new Dom to try and get over this.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow in surprise.

 

“There's this guy I've been talking to… He- he’s a Dom. I- I think it’ll be good to try a scene with him.” Sam continued quickly before Dean could interrupt.

 

“Sammy…” Dean sighed, wiping a palm over his face as he tried to reign in his instinctive anger, “Is this what you’ve been doing on the computer?”

 

His brother nodded guiltily.

 

“I know it grosses you out-” Sam began.

 

“It doesn’t,” Dean interrupted, “Nothing about you can ever gross me out Sammy. You’ve peed and pooped and puked on me far too many times for either of us to have those kinds of boundaries... but yes, it does worry me.”

 

Sam just looked at him with wide eyes.

 

“It terrifies me to think of you as helpless with someone else holding that kind of power over you.”

 

“It’s not... Dean, it’s the sub that holds the real power-”

 

He nodded, he’d read that part too. “Only with a good Dom. Those like Nick love to take advantage of their subs.”

 

“I-...I’m not helpless,” Sam protested, “You raised me far too capable for that. You saw how I-”

 

“What if you’d been unable to get out of the restraints, hmmm?”

 

“I’d manage,” Sam answered stubbornly.

 

For a minute neither brother spoke, then Dean remembered that he couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ \- always be around and that the easiest way to get Sam to do something was to refuse him... He sighed, “Would you let me take a look at your correspondence with this guy... this- this Dom?”

\---

 ---tbc

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds himself a Dom...

Dean felt tense and apprehensive like he hadn’t been since his first hunt as he drove them to the motel on the outskirts of Palo Alto as had been finalised between the Dom who simply called himself ‘Master’ and Sam. He wasn’t sure what the other man’s reaction to seeing him was going to be, but judging from Sam’s scowl, chances were, it wasn’t going to be anything pleasant.

 

He swallowed as he parked alongside the dusty, but obviously well-cared for all-terrain vehicle in front of Room 101- _God, it was like some sort of cosmic joke_... Dean scowled: another point in this ‘Master’s favour, if the vehicle was his.

 

From what he’d read of his brother’s and this Dom’s correspondence, ‘Master’ seemed to be mentally stable...   _and mature_ . ... The man had enquired after Sam’s chosen safe-word, its importance to his brother (to confirm that it was something that he wouldn’t forget during the course of a scene) and for a sign that he would use if unable to speak _BEFORE_ they’d finalised meeting. Once they’d more-or-less decided on a first-person meeting, the man had demanded a list of Sam’s ‘limits’- soft  and  hard, along with his ‘squicks’. He’d enquired after his phobias and about whether he had any health conditions. He’d also supplied a scanned copy of his doctor’s certificate to confirm his own clean bill of health.

 

All the preparation had soothed the part of Dean that desperately wanted to forbid Sam from going through with this and so he now found himself driving his brother to his ‘D/S’ (as Sam called it) appointment. He’d told Sam to inform ‘Master’ that Dean would be accompanying him, but Sam had liked this Dom too much to risk scaring him off before hand. Ultimately he’d agreed (under pressure) to allow Dean a few minutes with the man to inform him that the older brother would be waiting and would ferry him back after the scene.

 

 He had been forbidden from making any sort of threats, so Dean had dressed in his most aggressive clothing (black tee shirt, his red over shirt, Dad’s leather-jacket and his cleanest dark jeans; the Colt tucked into the back of his jeans and the hip holster for his dagger visible, even if he’d agreed to leave the actual dagger off. He had additionally slipped on all four of his leather bracelets and his silver ring. The amulet of course, had pride of place over his sternum and though it wasn’t visible, its leather cord was, adding to the ‘bad-boy’ aura he was going for. He looked pretty rogue, if he admitted it himself.)

 

The door opened far before Dean was ready to face this person and Dean found himself being sized up by a tall Afro-American in a monkey suit.

 

“Sam?” The stranger inquired uncertainly.

 

“That would be me, Master.” His brother responded, stepping forward from where Dean had him pushed behind himself.

 

Dean grit his teeth as he noticed the automatic way Sam ducked his head and felt his anger flare...    _who was this stranger to demand ‘submission’ from his brother???_

 

“Please, come in,” The man welcomed, stepping to a side to allow them entrance.

 

Dean hated that he seemed to be the only one uncomfortable with whatever was taking place.

 

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced...”

 

“Yeah well, you haven’t given your name either.” Dean returned, earning a glare from his brother. He sighed, “I’m Sam’s brother.”

 

“Older?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow, “ _Yes_. Why?”

 

“You act like it. So eager to protect your charge...” The man smiled. “You can call me Master,”

 

“Like hell I am-”

 

The man’s smile only widened, “Or Winston.”

 

“Dean,” He reluctantly introduced himself, accepting the offered hand.

 

They shook hands and the room descended into silence again.

 

“I’m assuming you have... some concerns?” Winston asked after a moment.

 

“Not concerns, no. Demands, more like it.”

 

“And they are...?”

 

“You don’t hurt him-”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t promise that, Dean... He did come here for a session that includes spanking among other things...”

 

“Yes, but not ... not  real , you know?” Dean tried to explain.

 

The Dom’s brow furrowed for a minute before clearing, “You’re worried about his safety?”

 

Dean nodded, “His last Dom-”

 

“This isn’t his first time?”

 

Dean glanced at Sam but his brother ducked his head, “No, Master.”

 

“How does your full-time master feel about this, then?”

 

“I-...”

 

“He doesn’t have a ‘master’,” Dean snapped, “Sam’s his own person,”

 

Winston’s eyes narrowed, “You’re not helping; you _do_ realise that, don’t you? You are condemning your brother’s lifestyle and belittling his choices. Are you sure you want to do that?”

 

“I...” Dean opened his mouth to protest before slumping, “I want what’s best for him... and I’ll support his decisions. But- but I can’t pretend to understand this because I-...” He shrugged helplessly, “I don’t... I’m trying.... I want to help him... And I’ll always have his back. But I don’t understand this lifestyle. I don’t understand letting someone else control me.”

 

The man smiled, “I’d say Sam’s rather lucky to have you for a brother, in that case. Few subs can claim to have family that’s so understanding... and your support means a great deal. As for the not understanding part, you can’t because from what little I’ve seen of you, you’re a natural dominant. You don’t like _not_ being in control. ... And most importantly, you’re protective.”

 

Dean ducked his head as he blushed.

 

“Now, I _am_ going to hurt your brother. But no more than what he needs or wants. I won’t force him into anything. And I promise to take good care of him. Have I missed anything?”

 

Dean shook his head, “I’ll uh... I’ll just wait outside.”

\---

** 2 hours later **

 

Dean was out of the car even before the door closed completely behind Winston.”What’s wrong?”

 

The older man raised a hand, Dean absently wondered if the gesture was supposed to be soothing somehow. He strode closer and repeated, “Is everything alright? Sammy?”

 

The man gave a wry smile and finally spoke, “Nothing’s wrong. ... But... but it’s not right either. He tensed up the second the door closed behind you and hasn’t relaxed since. And I’ve been working him over continuously since.”

 

Dean winced, “What... what are you saying?”

 

“That maybe I’m not the right Dom for your brother.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to speak and closed it _...   What was he supposed to say to that?_

 

“I’ve put him in a sort of time-out at the moment, so he’s doing fine right now; but its best if we don’t dally.”

 

“Yeah. Alright,” Dean nodded, “... just... what happens now?”

 

Winston looked at him consideringly before speaking, “I might have an idea...”

 

“O-kay...?”

 

“Exactly how dedicated to your brother are you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“What are you willing to do for him?”

 

This time Dean’s answer had no hesitation, “ _Anything._ ”

 

The Dom smiled, “Perfect,”

\---

Dean felt his heart clench as he pushed the door open and caught sight of his brother. Sam stood facing the corner without a stitch of clothing and with his well paddled- _pink_ \- behind on display. Even knowing nothing about the bdsm lifestyle, Dean could see the tension in his brother’s body. He took an instinctive step forward and glanced back when Winston’s heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him.

 

He glanced back at the raised eye-brows and gave a curt nod, indicating he remembered their conversation from before entering the room.

 

As decided, he toed off his boots and stayed silent as he made his way forward on hunter-soft feet till he was standing directly behind his brother. And then he broke from his pre-decided course of action and instead of grabbing Sam’s waist- _Winston had warned that Sam was likely to jump and possibly react violently till he realised who it was and that it was wisest to lay his hands on his Sam’s narrow waist so that he could duck a punch if it came to that_ \- he laid a warm palm on his brother’s nape. Sam tensed instantly, but the touch was familiar between the brothers:   _Dean had often using the spot to lend solidarity/comfort/strength/support through their teenage years when he’d been the taller brother_ ; and Sam relaxed with a quiet sigh. Both dominants watched with satisfaction as all the tension drained out of the boy’s body at Dean’s touch, leaving him comfortably pliant in his brother’s hold.

 

He squeezed once and tugged lightly; Sam followed the wordless command with aplomb, turning and following him to the bed and then dropping to his knees in a graceful motion to settle between Dean’s spread legs once he sat down on the edge of the bed. The older brother’s fingers wound themselves in the chocolate locks of their own volition and Sam leaned into the touch with a soft purr.

 

“Ask him,” Winston prompted.

 

“Would... would you like me to be your ‘Dom’, Sammy?”

 

Hazel eyes which had closed in contentment at the gentle scratching of his scalp flew open at the question, the hope in them unmistakable, “You’d do that?”

 

Dean smiled; voice still barely more than a whisper lest he break the fragile bubble they were trapped in, “ _Anything_ , Sammy.”

 

“Then yes, please...”

 

Dean smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his brother’s forehead.

 

“Here,”

Dean glanced up at the intrusion with a frown, the furrow between his brows deepening when he saw the leather collar being held out to him, “A Dom traditionally offers his collar to the sub of his choice.”

 

“I’m not collaring my brother like a dog!” Dean growled.

 

“It’s a token of affection!” Winston protested.

 

“Fine, I’ll give him a token. ... but I’m not putting that damn collar on his neck.” He muttered, glancing down where Sam was contentedly nuzzling his denim-clad thighs as he wracked his brains for something he could present to Sammy as a ‘token’. The amulet was out, Sam had been the one to gift him that and he was pretty sure that taking it off would upset Sammy. His belt could possibly double as a collar in a pinch but it was too much like the dog-collar like thing Winston had offered in the first place. He had a handkerchief, but what was Sam supposed to do with it- _drizzle perfume and smell it like a rose?!_...His prized Colt was another option but again, Dean was fairly certain it would be inappropriate (a weapon was not the way to show affection as he’d figured out when Sammy had shed buckets of tears on being gifted with his very own shot-gun from their dad at twelve). .

 

He glanced at his fingers buried in Sam’s hair and remembered his ring. It would be perfect, actually; but then he didn’t want to screw up the kid’s chances of wearing an actual wedding ring... And then he saw the option that he should have thought of in the first place: _his leather bracelets_.

 

Slipping two of the leather cords off, he transferred them to Sam’s hand, “We’ll both have a pair this way,” He murmured, “And you’ll remember that I’m as much yours as you are mine.”

\---

tbc


	3. Epilogue

** 2 years later **

Dean returned to the ‘Asian’ themed motel they were currently calling home with buttered Indian- bread (something the proprietor had referred to as a ‘ _naan’_...or was it ‘ _nun’_?), a spicy chicken curry and some lentil soup from the in-house restaurant and froze as he took in the room... Sam had stripped down to his boxers and was kneeling in the small space he’d created between the beds and the couch (which had been pushed right up against the wall, Dean observed); a somewhat wistful - but mostly hopeful - expression on his face. It took a moment for Dean to notice the familiar leather cords around his little brother’s right wrist (-his hand reaching for his own set automatically-) and understanding dawned...

 

 

 

>  
> 
> They had spent four days shy of a month as a committed dominant and submissive pair after Sam accepted Dean’s ‘token’ and even if they had not really done anything sexual; the relationship had been real. He had had the privilege of watching Sam flourish under his guidance and although he’d virtually raised the boy since he was a six-month old infant, it had been different this time around.
> 
>  
> 
> Sam hadn’t ‘grown’ so much as ‘blossomed’. He had begun holding himself straighter, no longer curling in on himself to merge with the wallpaper. He had started eating right too, though that was mostly because of Dean placing proper meals (read: balanced) in front of him three times a day. (Dean had congratulated himself when he’d managed to even teach a few of the easier recipes to his brother who’d so far succeeded in burning water whenever he stepped into the kitchen.) And he’d made friends...Sam hadn’t wanted to go out and hang with his batch-mates, claiming he didn’t want Dean to feel ‘alone and abandoned’ but the older brother had known it was more a case of Sam feeling shy and insecure than anything else. In the end he’d had to threaten leaving if Sam didn’t spend time with his ‘friends’ when they invited him to join them for a night out. As a reward for overcoming his fears, Dean had taken him on a long drive that weekend.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean had talked to Winston before they’d left that day and gotten some useful pointers for easing into the lifestyle; consequently, he’d set up clear ‘rules’ before moving things further with Sam. The rules included taking care of his health and making the required grades to keep his scholarship; but the most important part had been calling Dean for help whenever needed. Knowing his brother... _well, ‘liked’ was the best Dean could describe it_ \- being spanked; any failure in the established rules earned him a spanking. ... Sam’s independent streak earned him enough punishments because he forever felt like he had to do everything on his own. Each punishment left Sam with a blistered bright pink butt that Dean knew had to sting like crazy whenever he sat, but the younger brother never objected. Usually Dean made him stand in the corner for a fifteen minutes post a spanking session (with his hands either on the wall or clasped in front of him, to ensure he didn’t rub at his bruised rear) to ‘think’ about what he’d done wrong and to reflect on how he could avoid a punishment next time. While Sam endured the spankings valiantly, the time-out usually reduced him to sobs and Dean spent hours soothing him. The ‘post spanking after-care session’ as Dean called it in his mind included lots of cuddling and _\-  if Dean was feeling generous_ \- a massage of the tense muscles. The younger brother generally fell asleep and the first time Dean had made the mistake of leaving the narrow bed; but after that once, he learned to curl protectively around the taller form and take a nap himself. Waking from those sessions always left Sam smiling shyly at him and clinging for a few minutes till the residue of sleep cleared and then they would both resume their activities from before the spanking.
> 
>  
> 
> Walking the fine line of a platonic d/s relationship was tough and  - _despite his intentions_ \- Dean did make Sam climax a few times and while awkward, he made sure that his brother understood that there was no guilt to be carried.  He never allowed himself the luxury of a climax though and gently turned down Sam’s offers for returning the favour.
> 
>  
> 
> In the end, that had proved to be his undoing...
> 
>  
> 
> Late one night, Sam had confessed to wanting- _needing_ \- to satisfy his Dom sexually as well to feel good about himself and Dean had- _under the cover of darkness_ \- let his younger brother have free reign over his body. Already on the edge from his month of cold showers, Dean had climaxed easily the moment Sam had used his hands and instantly hated himself for taking advantage of his younger brother... his guilt had had him finding a hunt on the opposite coast and he’d made his escape two days later. ... ... When he’d finally managed to calm down, he’d checked on Sam again, the way he’d done before ( _read: secretly_ ) and found him happy with a beautiful blonde by the name of Jessica Moore. Not wanting to intrude, he’d quietly slipped away. When Sam hadn’t called him himself, Dean had taken it to be a confirmation of his understanding that whatever they’d had between them was over.
> 
>  

 

 

Looking at the kneeling form of his brother brought back all those memories he’d worked so hard to repress and question his belief about it being ‘over’ between them.

 

“Sammy?” He questioned softly, setting down the food containers on the rickety table to one side before crouching before his brother.

 

“Master...?” Sam whispered back.

 

Dean shook his head, reaching out to cup one softly stubbled cheek as he spoke, “Didn’t I tell you not to call me that, Kiddo?”

 

Sam blushed and ducked his head, “S’rry... Dean.”

 

“Good boy,”

 

His brother hummed in pleasure at the praise.

 

“What’re you doing, Sammy?”

 

“Offering... if- _if you’ll still have me_ , Dean .”

 

Dean understood that his name was supposed to stand for ‘master’ since he’d forbidden Sam from calling him that back when they’d done this the last time and smiled. “You’ll always be mine, Sammy.”

 

His ‘sub’ flushed happily at the confirmation and leaned readily into his touch.

 

“But it still doesn’t answer my question, Kiddo. Why now... after all this time?”

 

“I... I know you don’t want me... but- _but I need you_. Please.”

 

“Sshhh... what makes you think I don’t want you, hmm?”

 

“You left.” The voice was small: _broken_ and Dean felt his heart shatter as he understood.

 

“I’m so sorry, baby boy. I-... I’d thought I hurt you and- and when I came back, you were happy with Jessica.”

 

Tears filled the hazel eyes at the reminder of his loss, but Sam didn’t move away. “ _You didn’t hurt me!_ You – you could never hurt me, Dean... and I -I know you don’t want this-”

 

“I do.” Dean interrupted, “But it’s illegal, Kiddo.”

 

“ _And credit card fraud isn’t?!_ ” His brother shot back before colouring, “S’rry.”

 

Dean grinned at the brief glimpse of his brother’s more familiar defiant spirit but kept silent, wanting to see more.

 

“I-... I want this, Dean. I told you this. ... And I kind-of really need you to resume that life with me. But without the restrictions, this time. You’re my Dom. And I want to be yours... in every single way. Even the illegal ones. _Especially the illegal ones_.”

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile, loving how Sam succinctly summarized his desire without treading into chick-flick territory. He answered with the same word he’d used all those years ago, “ _Anything_.”

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Used to his father’s autocratic parenting style and being bossed around by his big brother, Sam felt oddly rudder-less without someone to answer to at Stanford. And with the argument before he’d left, he wasn’t comfortable confessing how much he missed them. So he tried to ground himself by subbing. He’d meet the Dom online, chat for a few days and then they’d have a scene. It was fine... until it wasn’t. The Dom pushes too hard and when Sam tries to safe-word, he insults him and edges him some more. Raised a hunter, Sam isn’t one to submit so easily however (he fights back); prompting the Dom to leave abruptly. And without the proper after care after such a heavy (even incomplete) ‘scene’, he crashes hard. Somehow he manages to make his way back to his room. And then Dean’s there. Dean’s out--of-his-depth at first, but researches D/S and discovers sub-drop and how to help someone experiencing it (yada-yada-yada). He realises he has to be Sam’s Dom to help him through this


End file.
